death, fable, storyteller
Once upon a time there lived a young man named Tommy. He was known throughout the land as a master storyteller, spinning tales of adventure and woe that captivated all who heard them.
But Tommy had a dark secret. He had an obsession with death. He believed that by mastering the stories of mortality, he could gain control over it and make it his own.
Tommy soon began to weave tales of death and destruction, tales of terror and horror. He became so good at telling these stories that soon nobody would dare come near him.
One day, Tommy decided to take his obsession with death to the next level. He snuck away to a graveyard in the middle of the night and began to dig a grave for himself. As he was about to climb in, he made a wish: that death would come to him and take him away from this life.
Suddenly, a cold chill ran through the air and the wind began to howl. A figure cloaked in shadow emerged from the darkness and stepped into the light of the moon. It was Death itself.
Death spoke in a voice as cold as ice, “Tommy, you have called me here to take you away. Are you sure you want to leave this life behind?”
Tommy, trembling in fear, nodded and said, “Yes, I am sure.”
Death took Tommy away, and he was never seen again. From that day forward, Tommy’s stories of death and destruction were never spoken again, and the world was a little bit less terrifying.